Why I Don’t Tell People I’m a Sex Educator (Even Though I Should)

November 16th, 2018

It’s only been this year that I have come around to calling myself a sex educator. I am late in the game compared to some of my fellow bloggers and authors, perhaps because I failed to see how this hobby could become a legitimate career for anyone. Before this, I would describe myself as a freelance writer who often, but not always, wrote about sex. While this isn’t wrong, it’s not the complete picture. I compartmentalized the work I am paid for and the words I write on this blog, despite much of it being about sex and despite that some of my working relationships originated because of this blog.

It’s 2018, I have been writing about sex, toys, and relationships in this blog for over a decade, and I have finally accepted myself as a sex educator. Yet, I am still hesitant to be upfront about what I do for work.

When people ask about my job as a writer, I usually gloss over the specifics. The reasons are twofold and while explaining how copywriting on the Internet works and reassuring people that, yes, you can get paid for that, the bigger hangup I have is that I so often write about sex. It’s not my own shame that prevents me from answering honestly; although, others sometimes respond in that manner, which I’ll touch on later.

No, it’s the response, almost always from straight men. It’s the assumption that any mention of sex, no matter how intellectual or removed from my own preferences, is viewed by these people as an invitation to pry into my personal sex life. Specifically, these men want to know if my interest in writing about sex, which must be spurred by a personal interest in sex, will lead me to sleep with them.

Then comes the question. To be fair, it’s not exactly one question. It’s simply the type of question that follows what was previously a non-sexual discussion. The question often pries into whether it’s my sexual interest that inspired me to write about sex. Of course, this is the case for me and plenty of other sex educators. I know this. You, my readers, know this. But that’s not the point.  People will take any mention of sex as an invitation to ask invasive questions or as a segue to discussing sex with them.

Let me make it clear: just because I talk about sex for my job doesn’t mean I want to talk about my personal sex life with you.

Sex coach and erotica writer Stella Harris discussed this briefly in an episode of American Sex about sexual communication. Stella, like myself, is a sex educator. Ms. Harris mentioned how disheartening it can be when these discussions happen because people may be so starved of any opportunity to discuss sex or because they “conflate the job with the person,” losing the decorum people usually abide by. I immediately knew what Ms. Harris meant when she said this about interactions with female-presenting people who are sex educators:

gives them license to be overly intimate right away

Although I would never classify myself as highly as someone who is certified as a sex coach, I have come to realize how valuable it is for as many people as possible to discuss sex in a positive and healthy way. In doing so, I have “invited” some of the same unwanted attention that Stella Harris discussed. And it’s not fun.

I write about sex and may be willing to talk about sex intellectually and hypothetically with you, but I don’t want to talk about my own sex life or my preferences. This is not an invitation for a man to fish to see if I might be willing to sleep with him and, dear god, I certainly don’t want dick pics from anyone with whom I have not already established a sexual rapport.

I do not want my personal space, safety or comfort invaded in the way that men so often do when the subject comes up. Yet they continue to fail to see how inappropriate their questions are.

While I have thus far focused on my interactions with men, I’ve noticed a different trend in some people when I reveal what I do for a living. Instead of creeping on me, they respond with coquettish giggles or hushed whispers. I realize both of these responses are due to society not discussing sex often or positively enough, in part because I was once guilty of the same behavior. Sometimes people are so starved for discussions about sex that they act giddy because it’s oh-so-naughty to do so. But there’s a place for knowing winks among friends, and it’s usually not when I am in sex-educator mode.

There’s no doubt that sex is concomitantly on display and hidden away in American culture. Those people who want to talk to sex may resort to hushed tones because they have never been taught how. And others may respond with shame because they have been taught that sex is something we don’t speak about.

That ties into how men react when they find out that I’m a sex educator. No matter the response, it’s based in the way that sex is shrouded. The response I often receive when people learn that I am a sex educator devalue the work I do because society devalues sex.

People probably don’t mean it, but because they don’t see sex as something that should be talked about, let alone something that needs to be discussed, they respond with giggles or jump straight to intimacy that is unearned. It’s not their fault if they’ve never been taught anything else.

Truthfully, this makes educating people about sex all the more important because they don’t treat the subject with the respect it deserves. They haven’t realized how significant sex can be to a satisfying life let alone a relationship. They fail to understand that an inability to discuss sex with partners leads to orgasm inequality, breeding resentment, boredom, and potentially cheating. People have yet to learn the basics of anatomy, physiology, and psychology that play very real roles in the sex they have — or don’t have. And this dearth of knowledge leads to risky sexual decisions including those that sometimes lead to sex.

The fact that some people try to change the subject or hem and haw over my job as a sex educator and others try to force themselves into my sex life when they realize that I write about sex means I need to keep talking about it. I’ve read the comments and emails from readers whose sex lives have somehow improved after reading my work, and I know there are people who have yet to stumble upon the information that will transform them and their understanding of sex, even if the information is presented by someone else.

I’ve stated that we don’t talk about sex often or correctly enough so many times that it might as well be my mantra, but it’s sadly as true today as it was when I started this blog a decade ago, and the interactions that follow after I explain to people that I am a sex educator prove it. I will continue to use myself as an example and continue to educate about sex, even if it leaves me open to inappropriate comments because I know how valuable sex education is — always will be. 

If I, and others like me, keep talking about sex, we may eventually see a world where people make smarter decisions about sex and more fully experience their sexualities and, perhaps, when someone reveals to another person that they are a sex educator, their audience will respond with, “Wow! I respect what you do.”

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October 2018 Media Recommendations

October 26th, 2018

October has flown by, and part of what has occupied my time is a lot of media consumption, so I have some recommendations if you want to do some learning about sex.

Reading

I just started reading Why Is the Penis Shaped Like That?: And Other Reflections on Being Human because I figured I might as well take advantage of the Scribd membership that I pay for. I, and I suspect many of my readers, know why the penis is shaped why it is (or, at the very least, the current scientific theory). But the book tackles other subjects about human sexuality and is rather entertaining. I’m not very far, but I’ve learned some interesting about (cis) male bodies that sex education/health classes failed to teach. Surprise!

Listening

  • As soon as I heard the broadcast of “No” by Kaitlin Prest as part of Radiolab’s 3-part series called In the No, I knew I would at it to this list. Last year, Kaitlin produced this powerful show about rape culture, consent, and coercion. The first part is incredibly provocative, nearly leaving me breathless. I would listen with caution if you are a survivor of sexual assault. It was hard to listen to even though I have not had those experiences, and part of the show contains actual recordings. If you’re not willing to wait for the rest of the episodes on Radiolab, you can listen to them on Kaitlin’s podcast Heart. The followup episode focuses on educating offenders while the last episode analyzes why people may not be able to say “No” when they want sex as well as issues with consent within the BDSM community, which is often lauded for its consent-driven model.
  • I’ve also been listening to a lot of American Sex Podcast. The episodes on sociology, communication, and melanistic kink were all home runs for me.

Watching

This month’s visual recommendations are both on Netflix.

  • The first recommendation is Adam Ruins Everything’s sex episode, which tackles the hymen, herpes, and more. The hymen episode may be the first Adam Ruins Everything show I ran into, and Netflix has curated it along with some episodes. I’ve always found the series and host engaging, but I don’t do a lot of Youtube, so I haven’t watched much of it.
  • My second recommendation is a series called Christiane Amanpour: Sex & Love Around the World. I was not previously familiar with Christiane Amanpour, who apparently works for CNN. In this series, she travels to different countries around the world and talks to citizens about their opinions on love and sex. It starts in Japan, which I found particularly interesting because of the cultural emphasis on community. This is something a bit foreign to me as an American. I am not very far into the series but definitely find it interesting. My biggest critique is that because each location is only covered in a single episode and the topics of sex and love are so broad that it barely scratches the surface.

I’ve just finished two books that were dominating my time, so I’ll be able to catch up on the two books I started last month and finally get the reviews written (along with a few others!).

Got any recommendations? Leave ’em in the commentd!

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Happy Down Below: Everything You Want to Know About the Penis and Other Bits

September 10th, 2018

I spent an awful lot of time learning — and teaching about — female genitalia. I talk about where it is, what it does, how it works, and how to interact with the various bits and bobbles. Like most aspects of human sexuality, a (cis) woman’s sexuality, is ignored. So I feel there’s a good reason for me to harp about vulvas and vagina, clitorises and cervixes, and everything in between.

Despite more attention being paid to the penis, its testicular friends, and the neighboring prostate, there’s a wealth of knowledge that is unknown (perhaps forgotten), and I came face to face with it in Happy Down Below, a book about the penis by German urologist Dr. Oliver Gralla. I was continually surprised by what I learned in this book. It was the type of knowledge you can only glean through an active career in your field, and the good doctor shares the knowledge-through-experience he’s had treating UTIs, infertility, erectile dysfunction, foreskin, and other topics.

Happy Down Below starts strong, with Dr. Gralla writing about how little most (cis) men know about their penises. Phew, at least it’s not just me.

However, the book slowed down a bit as the doctor introduced the reader to the penis, which included information about average sized (old news pour moi), the definition of and possible solutions to having a micropenis, and a rundown of all the parts. Toward the end of the chapter are sections on spots, warts, and other unwanted conditions of the penis. This first chapter is somewhat confusingly arranged, and it left me wondering what the actual point of it was. At nearly 50 pages, the first chapter is lengthy, and it could easily have been split up for clarity of theme.

Peppered throughout this book are stories from Dr. Gralla’s career or his colleagues’. The stories range from unbelievable (patients inserting ball bearings into their urethra until they fill the bladder) to grotesque (doctors using parts of corpses to enlarge the penis and patients injecting caulk into their penises). These stories appear almost immediately in Happy Down Below, which help to break up some of the older information or drive home a point that the author is making.

These anecdotes weren’t enough to keep me enthralled through the confusing first chapter; although, things perked up as Dr. Gralla discussed prostate issues that are often kept in the dark. I was especially struck by the fact that most elderly men will die with prostate cancer that has never been detected or interfered in their lives. The doctor makes pragmatic arguments about when and how to treat prostate issues, and his pragmatic nature plays a large role in his work and this book. For example, there are times when he admits to treating patients suffering from psychological issues about their sexual performance with drugs that have no effect, beneficial or otherwise, to facilitate the placebo effect. This sort of thing seems bizarre to someone raised in litigious America, but I cannot help but give his doctor credence.

This book picks up in the third chapter, which focuses on women’s urology. Dr. Gralla sees few women, but the ones he does see have typically struggled with consistent UTIs. The book continues to pick up traction as Galla writes about infertility and the couples with whom he has worked. This chapter offers insight into the mistakes people make (steaming your penis multiple times daily will not help you conceive) that decrease fertility how often patients misunderstand doctors and instructions. There was a brief tip about how sex closer to ovulation is more likely to conceive a boy child, which I found interesting.

Of course, it only makes sense that a book like this includes information about male contraception, but Dr. Gralla only discusses current options such as condoms and vasectomies. It’s interesting to learn about the efficacy of vasectomy reversal, but it would be nice to know what the future might hold, too.

Dr. Gralla does make some good points as he discusses erectile dysfunction, which has an appearance of being on the rise, especially in young men. But this may not be the truth. It’s perhaps easy to forget about the ways that men struggle, but Dr. Gralla has dealt with patients as young as 14 who wanted to better please their lovers. And while I wouldn’t call sexual curiosity a struggle, it certainly leads to problems that were entertaining enough to read (some complete with hydraulic pliers or bolt cutters).

Gralla does due diligence to various methods for dealing with ED before launching into a chapter on premature ejaculation where he similarly relays solutions. By now, the formula is apparent enough that you get a feel for how the chapter on hormones and testosterone will read; explanatory and interesting with a few entertaining tales and a couple of lackluster moments.

If you’re not sold on the educational merits of Happy Down Below, you might like the final chapter, in which Dr. Gralla discusses things that wound up in the orifices of his patients. Lost dildos, tree boughs, matches, and a bladder full of ball bearings all make an appearance here. This chapter is so bad you can’t look away.. if that’s how you react to that sort of thing. It doesn’t follow the formula of the preceding chapters, which I didn’t mind. Dr. Gralla tackles the subject with humor, so Happy Down Below does end on a lighthearted note.

As I read Happy Down Below, I couldn’t help but detect something a bit old-fashioned about Dr. Gralla., especially in his humor He is noticeably from a generation older than mine, and some of his comments highlight over mindsets or reflect cliches and stereotypes that are no longer readily accepted. This bothered me more toward the beginning of the book, but either I became accustomed to it, or it lessened as the book went on. Likely both.

It’s difficult to say who the target audience of this book is. At some parts in Happy Down Below, Dr. Gralla offers advice to readers who might be struggling with the specific issues he’s encountered during his career. At others, his advice is better targeted at medical practitioners. There were points when I simply enjoyed learning new things the way I do when I read any medical/science book. While I think it’s good for books to have a wide audience, sometimes a niche makes it easier to market or just recommend.

I did it enjoy this book for the most part and felt like I learned quite a bit. It was a quick and easy read even if you don’t.

I wouldn’t use it as an encyclopedia, but it wouldn’t hurt to pick up this book if you like books by doctors/professionals about their careers, want to know more about urological health in laymen’s terms than medical jargon, and want to be prepared for possible future complications with your genitals. Happy Down Below would likely be a good book for many (cis) men to pick up; although, I cannot help but wonder whether they would.

You can buy this book on Amazon. At the time of writing this review, there’s a coupon that will automatically be added to your cart!

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Sex Q&A by Anne Hooper

August 7th, 2018

Sex Q&A
$8.75 from Amazon

Sex Q&A is aptly named because the format, other than a few asides, in-depth tutorials and quizzes, is simply question-and-answer. A quick Google of Anne Hooper shows that she has been a columnist for several outlets including Cosmo and the Daily Mail. Ms. Hooper’s introduction states that the questions in the book are based on the many questions she’s received as a columnist; although, some of them could very well be reprints. It does seem as though the questions in Sex Q&A are specifically worded to hit on a variety of sexuality subjects.

This book is split into eight chapters, each of which ends in a quiz that tests your knowledge and skills about the subject of that chapter: sex in relationships, questions men ask, questions women ask, sex when you’re single, spicing up your sex life, pregnancy and beyond, questioning your sexuality, and your sexual health.

As I mentioned, each chapter ends with a sort of skills test. It’s all very Cosmo, but I didn’t find it particularly revealing. In fact, I skipped right over the quizzes. Some people might find them entertaining or perhaps useful if they’re struggling with sex in their relationship or are less well versed in this subject than I am.

Most sections also have a “Case history” or two where Anne describes specific problems experienced by couples or individuals and how the general advice can specifically be applied. But some of these cases don’t show how the advice actually helped; they’re just Ms. Hooper describing what could help. Without proof of improvement, the advice can seem a little weak,

Although printed nearly 20 years ago, Sex Q&A manages to be ahead-of-its-time in some ways. It’s incredibly sex-positive, accepting of casual sex and masturbation, and pretty body-positive, too. It’s not homophobic, and Anne does a good job at answering questions about what is “normal.” She recommends a variety of sexual activities and doesn’t just focus on the man’s pleasure like so many sources. Anne also mentions science and theories about science that have only recently come across my radar. They certainly would have been new to be 17 years ago!

But Sex Q&A isn’t perfect. First, I would have liked a dedicated section on kink. Ms. Hooper does mention some kinky activities and related concepts such as contracts and negotiation, but she doesn’t explicitly introduce certain ideas or tools. For example, she casually mentioned caning during a section on impact play without discussing how many consider caning to be a more extreme form of impact play. I think she could have recommended a paddle or flogger that might have been more beginner-friendly, especially because the target audience of Sex Q&A doesn’t seem to be especially kinky.

Similarly, I would have liked to see more information on toy and lube safety as those two topics have come a long way since the early 2000s. Aside from recommending them in general and advising against using oils with condoms, Anne doesn’t include a lot of specifics. She does try to define a fewtypese of toys, but it doesn’t seem incredibly inclusive, and there’s so much more information to be had these days. One thing I note, in particular,r is how Ms. Hooper defines a clitoral stimulator only as a part of cock ring and not as a standalone toy.

Although it’s not homophobic, it certainly is cis-normative. The assumption is that men are having sex with women, and they’re cisgendered. I realize that there has been a lot of advancement in the last two decades, however. For the time, I’m sure those conservative attitudes were pretty contemporary. Sex Q&A is also dated. For example, more recent research has cast a shadow of doubt over the significance of testosterone on sex drive, and most people now consider the G-spot as part of the clitoris. These answers could use some clarification.

There are a few topics that were all the rage when this book was published but proved to be fads since then: penis piercings and autofellatio, among them. The distinct lack of information on the contraceptive sponge is also indicative of the time when this book was printed.

Despite being a bit dated, Sex Q&A is full of a lot of information. Because it runs the gamut, Sex Q&A is not ideal for everyone. But the generalized advice would be great as part of a sex ed library or perhaps for young adults and the sexually inexperienced.

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Adriana Currently Enjoys [July 2018 Sex Media Recommendations]

July 13th, 2018

My media consumption has been pretty sex-heavy lately.

Reading

The three books that I am reading, at least two of which will show up in the near future as reviews, about. The first two have been released in the past month or so while the third is a little older. Thus far, I am loving Lehmiller’s tone in Tell Me What You Want.

Watching

Hulu just released the second season of Harlots, a period drama about an English brothel and the sex workers who are attempting to survive, avoid run-ins with the law, and win a rivalry with another brothel. It’s nice to see a show that stars so many women, and it’s not just the cast that dominated by women: the staff is, too. You might enjoy Harlots for the drama and costumes. The seasons are only a few episodes long, so you can catch up by the time the third episode of season 2 is released next week.

Harlots

Listening

I am more than a little sad that the Science of Sex podcast is over for the season, so I’ve been trying to fill the hole in my heart with other sex-related podcasts. So far this week I’ve listened to Sex Out loud, American Sex, and Sex with Emily. I’d listened to a few episodes of the first two before, and they tend to focus on sex culture. American Sex is hosted by Sunny Megatron and her husband, so if you’re familiar with Sunny, then you won’t be surprised at her upfront tone and commitment to sex education. The most recent episode was about sex after trauma, and it was full of resources

Of course, this is just what I am into this week. I’ll finish books and catch up on podcasts and have a little time to enjoy more. I want to hear your recommendations in this comments, and it doesn’t have to be limited to books, podcasts, and TV. If it’s about sex and it’s worth paying attention to, I want to know!

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Better Sex Through Mindfulness: How Women Can Cultivate Desire

July 12th, 2018

Some of you may not read as many educational books about sex as I do, so you may not realize that this year has been pretty active with releases (this does not actually include my last book review, Becoming Cliterate, which was released last year). It’s why I’ve been reading about sex non-stop for the past several months. It’s been a few years since this has been the case; although, the break from reading about astrophysics certainly was welcome.

Check out all my book reviews before you leave.

Even though Better Sex Through Mindfulness was just published a couple months ago and I was able to get my hands on a digital copy immediately, the author came across my radar last year. You see, Lori Brotto, a psychologist, is one of the women I wrote about in my post about women who study sex.  Let me refresh with the description of her work because it leads us directly to the theme of Brotto’s book:

Lori Brotto has studied the disconnect that women often experience between mental and physical arousal. Brotto’s research suggests that the way that women multitask and tend to be detached from their bodies contributes to this. Brotto suggests mindfulness as one possible solution

So her work and research have led her to write a book directly about how mindfulness can help women overcome their sexual issues. Brotto is one of many who are adamant that the solution to low sexual desire cannot be fixed simply by a little pink pill (Emily Nagoski, who wrote the foreword, shares similar views). And while the tagline of this book focuses on desire. Better Sex Through Mindfulness goes beyond how mindfulness can be helpful with sex drive and focuses on topics such as heightening pleasure and reducing the impact from pain as well.

As a researcher, Brotto has worked with women to help them solve and alleviate the symptoms of their sexual issues, and she draws heavily from her own research when she makes conclusions in Better Sex Through Mindfulness. When she tells you that women have increased sex drive as well as pleasure from sex due to a something as small as mindfulness, you believe her and wonder if we’ve been treating sexual complications wrong all along. At one point, Brotto mentions how “mood, sense of well-being, body image, self-esteem, and how a woman feels about her partner turned out to be far stronger predictors of her level of sexual desire than a single hormone,” which really drives this point home (later she highlights how opinions about sexuality can also be more significant than hormones). Not only may some treatment options for sexual dysfunction be misguided, but the focus of hormones as cause and treatment for sexual dysfunction after menopause may also overestimate the function of hormones in sexual function.

But let me back up because by calling mindfulness ‘small,’ I am being quite reductionist. Really, mindfulness can be life-changing, and Dr. Brotto takes time to explore the definition and use of mindfulness as well as its history (the word wasn’t using when Masters and Johnson were teaching about sex, for example, but their sensate practices were certainly mindful!). She compares and contrasts mindfulness with cognitive behavioral therapy, with which I was familiar from my own experiences.

Furthermore, mindfulness can be difficult for some people, and Dr. Brotto emphasizes that willingness to try and practice mindfulness as key to its effectiveness. As someone who has struggled with meditation and mindfulness in the past, I think this is especially pertinent. It struck me that getting help to master mindfulness might be the catalyst to success in people who similarly struggle. Indeed, Dr. Brotto points out how trying to force yourself to relax is a misunderstanding of mindfulness and can be counterproductive.

Brotto often points to others’ research as well. In her book, she talks about studies that have highlighted differences in the brains of women who have healthy versus low sexual desire. One difference may be smaller amounts of grey matter in the brains of women who have low sexual desire. Brotto explains how women with low sexual desire spend more time monitoring their sexual performances rather than enjoying sex — and research backs it up!

Better Sex Through Mindfulness isn’t all about the argument that mindfulness can be helpful, however. Scattered through the books are practices that readers can use to (try to) improve their own sex lives. Admittedly, I am not currently struggling with sexual issues, but I found the reminder to be mindful during my everyday life useful. Of course, this book also offered something to sate my appetite for sexual science. Of particular note was how mindfulness can assist women who suffer from pain during sex due to various conditions. While mindfulness does not lessen the pain (and in some instances, medical professionals are not sure how to do this), it does enable women to enjoy sex and intimacy by reducing the intensity of their perception of pain and by encouraging a wider variety of intimacy.

I also highlighted a blurb regarding how sexual concordance differs between men and women. Women experience a lower level of +.26 than men’s level of +.66 (with 1.0 being perfect concordance between mental and physical arousal). This book was full of interesting tidbits like that.

In Better Sex Through Mindfulness, Brotto makes the case for her mindfulness programs by revealing the results of surveys filled out by the participants. She states that “sexual satisfaction increases by 60 percent” from prior to the program. She also illustrates how learning mindfulness can equate to long-term sexual improvement and not just improvement in the present. Even women who were dubious about the effects of mindfulness found it to be helpful. Certain groups of women (those who were the most distresses prior) even benefited the most.

In the end, Dr. Brotto’s book shows that not only is there hope when it comes to sexual dysfunctions such as low desire or pain but that the solution might be easier and more accessible than people realize, all without needing pharmaceutical intervention. Although geared toward women, I can imagine men would benefit from this book, too.

Better Sex Through Mindfulness ends with an appendix full of resources, either for women to get help to improve sexual function. This book is ideal for any woman (or man) who wants to get more out of her sex life, but some professionals might also benefit from reading it and incorporating mindfulness into their treatment and coping strategies.

If you think you might benefit, you can buy it at any number of retailers. A hard copy might be especially useful for partaking in activities, but I usually prefer Kindle versions for highlighting and taking notes. Get the digital version for less than $10. It’s only a couple bucks more for physical!

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Becoming Cliterate

June 11th, 2018

Becoming Cliterate is a book that I read a while back and intended to get around to reviewing much before now. Arg. But here I am, with my thoughts on the book that was graciously provided to me by the author herself to review.

So, who wrote Becoming Cliterate? Laurie Mintz is a Ph.D. author and therapist who is also a professor at the University of Florida. She’s about as qualified as they come to write this book, and the only reason she didn’t wind up on my post dedicated to the women of sexology is that I didn’t discover her until just after I posted it.  Had I known of her and Becoming Cliterate, I certainly would have wanted to include her on that list.

The subtitle of Becoming Cliterate explains exactly what the book is about: Why Orgasm Equality Matters — And How To Get It. Dr. Mintz wants to crush that orgasm gap and bring more pleasure to women. To do so, we’ve got to think about sex differently as the description explains.

We’ve been thinking about sex all wrong. Mainstream media, movies, and porn have taught us that sex = penis + vagina, and everything else is just secondary. Standard penetration is how men most reliably achieve orgasm. The problem is, women don’t orgasm this way. We’ve separated our most reliable route to orgasm—clitoral stimulation—from how we feel we should orgasm—penetration. As a result, we’ve created a pleasure gap between women and men.

I cannot say that I argue just reading thus far. In fact, these are some of the very same things that I try to teach my readers, so I was excited to see how Dr. Mintz tackles the issue in Becoming Cliterate. I frequently found myself nodding along as Dr. Mintz explained how many women require clitoral stimulation and that our traditional idea of sex misses the mark. I followed as she explained female anatomy, a subject I’ve even written on myself, felt fire rising within as Dr. Mintz discussed our difficult and shame recognizing female sexuality, and nodded approval when she provided suggested “Scripts” for sexual encounters that would leave both partners orgasmic and ecstatic (these three sections make up the bulk of the book).

I also found myself surprised at the new information that I gleaned from this book (a response that seems pretty common in anyone who has learned something from the good doctor!). I’ve read many books that I am more apt to recommend to people who are less familiar with sex than I am. I’ve seen a lot of repeated information, and, sure, there is some of that in Becoming Cliterate. But I was still pleasantly surprised while reading Becoming Cliterate. Bits of new-to-me information include:

  • the fact that doctors have injected collagen into the G-spot
  • that the upper two-thirds of the vagina may lack sensation enough to perform surgery without anesthetic,
  • that many women experience easier and better orgasms solo than with partners
  • that antihistamines can dry up vaginal lubrication, that vibration may increase the number of nerve endings on the clitoris
  • that some water-based lube is not compatible with polyisoprene condoms

Dr. Mintz really did her work, and this was especially apparent when she discusses searching for information about the clitoris and where/how it attaches to the inner lips. Dr. Mintz reports sources that state it attaches in one, two or either one or two spaces. In her search for the truth, Dr. Mintz even wound up contacting them, and one source updated their information. I suppose what I am saying is that even if you think you might know it all already, you don’t (neither I nor a so-called expert did!), and Becoming Cliterate might be a good resource.

While I learned a lot from Becoming Cliterate, one of Dr. Mintz’s main goals is to change the way we think about sex, a manner of thinking that leads to orgasm and pleasure disparities and pain or worse at worst. She touches on how we define sex, casual sex, and masturbation. After setting the groundwork for thinking about sex in a healthy way, Dr. Mintz proceeds to tell the reader how to actually change their actions to follow. She writes as though she’s directing a play with options for the plot; although, she precedes the four play options with “Act 1,” which can be a bit confusing.

Dr. Mintz follows this with a crucial chapter about communication, which can help readers discuss their needs for orgasm with their partners and to have better sex in general. She makes arguments against faking it, for scheduling/orchestrating sex and asking for what you need. In short, Dr. Mintz talks the real talk that will help readers have realistic sex that provides the pleasure they seek.

Her real talk continues as she closes the section of the book for female readers and segues into more practical advice for their partners. As you can tell, I feel pretty good about recommending Becoming Cliterate as it wrapped up.

Now, I have seen complaints that Becoming Cliterate does not talk about G-spot pleasure, but I do not think this is a valid critique, at least not the way that I saw it. I am not sure what readers expect: it’s right there in the name. Furthermore, Dr. Mintz explains early and frequently that both published surveys and her own experience show that most women need clitoral stimulation to achieve orgasm, including a portion of women who prefer clitoral and vaginal stimulation simultaneously to get off. The book also challenges the idea that vaginal orgasms are better in any way, so this angle is not only to be expected but completely understandable!

At best, this complaint stands only because Dr. Mintz could have used the opportunity to explain how the G-spot is simply the internal portion of the clitoris and that orgasms achieved through G-spot stimulation are just another type of clitoral orgasm.

In fact, if I have a criticism of Becoming Cliterate, it’s that the focus is on orgasm (Dr. Mintz says at one point that “quality sex means orgasm equality”) when we all know very much that is it not the only vehicle of pleasure and sometimes focusing on orgasm as a means to pleasure can be shooting yourself in the foot. To be fair. Dr. Mintz does touch on this, explaining that she wants to close the orgasm gap while recognizing the very point I just made. I understand that this may be the only way you can write a book like Becoming Cliterate. But her point comes near the end of the book where attention may have waned and after people may have already gotten the wrong idea. I would simply like to see her reiterate it toward the beginning while keeping the notes toward the end just to ensure that readers understand that this emphasis doesn’t intend to exclude non-orgasm-based pleasure.

But my critiques are few and far between. Dr. Mintz wrote a book that’s approachable and easily digested. It’s not intimidating. Dr. Mintz is personable and, at times, funny. She includes a chapter for (male) partners to read to increase their own cliteracy and help their female partners become more orgasmic. Although the focus is on heterosexual partners, Becoming Cliterate doesn’t exclude any other pairing.

Perhaps best of all is that the advice in this book is both actionable and fun. I’ve read books that erred too far on the “fun” side, resulting in a loss of information. I’ve also read books that were informative but lacked ways for readers to incorporate that information into their lives. With Becoming Cliterate, I think Dr. Laurie Mintz succeeds at both, and I feel confident in recommending this books to my readers.

Get it now on Amazon for your Kindle in hardcover or in the newly-released paperback version!

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